


First Glimpse Of Hearts

by tielan



Series: First Touch [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate History, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, The Angry Goose Of Destiny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:48:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27488341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: A meeting in a garden. A goose attack. And a glimpse of what might be...
Relationships: Maria Hill/Steve Rogers
Series: First Touch [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2008753
Comments: 9
Kudos: 73





	First Glimpse Of Hearts

Steve pauses at the edge of the gardens, taking a moment to breathe in the warm scent of the midmorning, not yet the intense heat of the midday and afternoon, but swiftly heading there.

 _Be warned,_ said the Hospitaller when Steve mentioned he'd be out in the gardens for the meeting, _your skin is likely to burn if unshaded, and may do so even if shaded. The Alkebulan sun is fierce in the midday sky._

Now, looking out across what looks like a wild meadow scattered with shrubs and bushes, Steve wonders if the choice of location is a sign of just how little the aide to the Roanoke Ambassador to Wakanda likes him. A meeting outside in the midday heat isn't going to last long, and surely after spending the last two years here in Wakanda she'd know about the burning power of the sun?

The vine-covered pavilion he was directed to is at the far edge of the meadow, and Steve follows the flattened trail of grasses that wends its way through the garden. As he goes, he looks about him. Most of the plants are strange and foreign to his gaze, but here and there a plant Steve recognises from Roanoke and the Old World has set down roots, grown, and bloomed.

He reaches out one hand and plucks a mint leaf from the bush that sprouts joyfully from the soil, bruising it between his fingers before lifting it to his nose to inhale the sharp scent. Will he transplant as hardily to Wakanda as these plants? Will he set down roots and grow into the Alkebulan soil as they have done?

He hopes so. He plans to.

But to do that, he must be advised on the politics of the land into which he has been thrust, the people among whom he will be living, whom his children will someday rule when King T'Challa has gone the way of his ancestors.

Hence the meeting with the Ambassador's aide.

At the end of the meadow is a vine-twined arbour, the thick leaves overlapping to provide shade from the bright sun. As Steve pauses at the top of the stone step that leads down into the paved and mossy area, a cooler breeze rises up from the stream that bubbles its way through the tangle of reeds and plants dipping their leaves into its merry current. It ruffles the edges of the papers that lie scattered across the wooden table, and teases a stray strand of hair that has escaped the hairpins of the woman who looks up at him.

"Captain Rogers."

Maria Hill rises from her seat as he descends the stairs, elegant in a high-necked, bare-shouldered, Wakandan-style dress that falls to her ankles and slips over her skin like water. She meets his gaze with perfect composure, but doesn't smile at him or offer her hand.

She didn't offer him either a smile or a handshake two days ago when she and Nick Fury came to meet Steve's party on the docking pier at Birnin Zana, either.

—

_The wind was up at the pier, great gusts of it buffeting Steve as he stepped off the airship. Overhead, migrating birds were squawking their way across the sky as he, Bucky, Sam, and the others from the Roanoke contingent made their way over to the portico where the Roanoke Ambassador and his aide waited to escort them over to the palace._

_Nick Fury had lost not one iota of the imperiousness that Steve recalled from the war. The man had been one of their best intel commanders, his spylines and his cunning unsurpassed. And if he and Steve had clashed heads, well, it was to be expected when two strong-willed men tried to lead over each other, their specialisations dovetailing, even as their personalities struck sparks._

_"Rogers."_

_"Fury. It's been a while."_

_"Four years, give or take." Fury didn't waste any more time on pleasantries. "My aide, Maria Hill."_

_Fair-skinned and blue-eyed, Maria Hill was - as Bucky would have said - a drop-dead stunner. Flawlessly beautiful - in a purely objective sense - she flicked her eyes over him as coolly as though she was cataloguing his faults, then lifted dark lashes to look him in the eye. Steve felt the jolt through him like lightning as she said clearly, "Captain Rogers."_

_A gust of wind caught them all crosswise, and although the humans braced themselves, the birds flying overhead weren't so lucky._

_Steve got a hard thwack with a heavy wing as something large and feathered and heavy smacked him sideways into Sam, who caught him before he fell over._

_"Some help here, Barnes!"_

_Bucky laughed as he helped Sam set Steve to rights. A few yards away, Fury was helping up Ms Hill, who'd been unable to avoid the giant brown-and-grey feathered goose that was even now picking itself up and fluffing its feathers. With a few pointed honks in the direction of its compatriots - and possibly the humans - it launched itself up at the sky, and moments later was joined by its fellows, winging its way north of the city._

_"I suggest we get undercover before this wind picks us up and deposits us over the edge," Fury said, and they hurried along to the glassed-in receiving room._

_As they reached the shelter of the glassy rotunda, Steve plucked a feather still caught in Ms. Hill's hair. He should have thrown it away, but something made him present it to her like a gift. "Souvenir of your encounter, ma'am."_

_Behind her, Sam coughed, and Bucky rolled his eyes at Steve's gallantry._

_Maria Hill merely looked from the feather to him as though not quite sure what to make of either, then took it with the tips of her fingers as though not wanting to risk contact. "Thank you, Captain."_

—

The meeting is simple enough in purpose; to begin Steve's instruction in the politics of the Wakandan Royal Council and the Wakandan Royal Family.

Ms. Hill pours him a glass of water and places it within his reach before sitting down in her chair again.

"How much of the reading have you done? If you haven't done any of it, then I'll start from the beginning."

"All of it."

She pauses, and her gaze locks with his, the blue-green of the ocean that they crossed in the airship glittering with astonishment. "All of it?"

"It was in the information pack." Steve picks up the water and takes a sip as much to hide his grin at her surprise as to wet his whistle. "So is the marriage really as assured as we've been told, given the objections to it from the Wakandan traditionalists?"

Her lips purse briefly. "The Wakandan traditionalists in the council won't sway the king. T'Challa is committed to this alliance - in part because of the bad history between Alkebulan and Roanoke, and in part because he sees opportunities in an alliance with Roanoke: our productive land balanced against their natural resources. Using the connections of shared blood is one way to sell the alliance to the Roanoke with Alkebulan ancestry, and bringing you here to marry his sister is another."

"And how do the Wakandans feel about a sallowskin siring their next King and Heir-bearer?"

Steve deliberately uses the epithet he'd heard at least twice during yesterday's reception to see if Ms. Hill will flinch. She doesn't; obviously she's well aware of that strain of thought in the Council.

"From what we can tell, outside the Council, most Wakandans figure that whatever the next King's bloodlines, his upbringing will be Wakandan. To that end, they're not going to make a fuss about it."

"With the exception of Prince N'Jadaka."

"The Prince," says Maria dryly, "has always had his own ambitions regarding the succession; including the possibility of marrying his own cousin."

After meeting the son of the late king last night, Steve did wonder a little. N'Jadaka is Steve's own age, forthright and charismatic with a solid following in both court and council. He doesn't openly oppose his older cousin in the council, but he makes no disguise of his disagreement with his cousin's policies, particularly regarding T'Challa's willingness to behave as though the world outside Wakanda could be the equal of Wakanda, instead of requiring them to acknowledge Wakanda's superiority from a subordinate position.

It probably doesn't help that the bloodlines of Wakandan royalty run from uncle to nephew - from a man to his sister's son: a matriarchal bloodline underpinning a male leader. So King N'Jobu's son was counted out of the succession in favour of his cousin, T'Challa, son of Ramonda who was born to the same mother as N'Jobu. In the same way, T'Challa's own children by the Lady Nakia will not inherit, but the children of his sister Shuri by whatever man she chooses to sire them.

Or whatever man is chosen to sire them on her.

The idea of a marriage to cement an alliance is archaic, but the realisation of just how powerful Wakanda is has panicked Congress, and they're grabbing for any straws that might see them maintain a little power in the face of a tiny Alkebulan country that could wipe them and their superiority complex out in a moment. It just so happens that Steve is one of their straws.

 _Seems short-sighted of them to think that the Wakandans will particularly care if their future king has Roanoke blood in him,_ Bucky had muttered.

 _Short-sighed is what the Senate does right now,_ Sam commented grimly. _And given the ascendancy of the southern faction, I'd say that, yeah, they think that if the next king of Wakanda has a white Roanoke dad, then he might favour Roanoke policy going forward. If that means going archaic, then archaic is where that lot'll go._

"How did the Princess feel about her cousin's interest?"

Hill shrugs. "She took it to be a joke on his part and dismissed it. And the Prince has enough subtlety to know when not to push the matter. However, if he managed a coup - and I'm not saying that's anywhere in his plans - then I wouldn't vouch for the Princess' right to choose her husband, unless something bigger comes along."

"Bigger, such as?"

"Her soulmate." Her mouth tilts a little as Steve coughs up his water. "You're not a believer?"

He thinks about explaining how he doesn't like the idea that there's someone out there who has an unearned right to him without so much as a 'by your leave'. But many people don't understand that: shouldn't he want this one person in the world who's utterly perfect for him? His soul mate? His one true love?

The problem is that Steve's already met the woman who was perfect for him...and she walked away from him and their relationship.

Prevaricating is safer than letting this steady-eyed woman read him like a book. "I'm more surprised that the Prince is one."

Now her expression turns careful. "Prince N'Jakada found his soulmate outside Wakanda - Linda, an Albion national." Her words make Steve catch his breath - _Margaret Carter, Liaison, Albion Intelligence_ , but Maria continues on, oblivious. "Diaspora from Ethiopia, four generations in Albion and it turns out she's the soulmate to the Wakandan King's son. Unfortunately, she got taken as a hostage during a failed negotiation with Ulysses Klaue."

"Klaue? The international arms terrorist?"

"And dealer for the CIA." Maria shrugs, although the edges of her mouth tighten. "Klaue knew what she was to the Prince, thought he could use her as leverage against Wakanda."

Steve catches his breath as he realises that Maria is using the past tense in all of this - and recalls that Prince N'Jadaka doesn't have a wife. "Klaue killed her?"

It was a point of decency and honour that people didn't bring their opponent's soulmates into a conflict, at least in western culture over the last couple of years. If the soulmate chose to get involved, that was their business, but bringing them in through force, kidnapping, or co-ercion was beyond the pale.

"The story goes that Klaue had her in a headlock; the Prince risked a shot and got him, but Klaue's knife cut her jugular as he fell."

 _The story goes..._ "You don't believe that?"

"It doesn't matter what I believe."

In fact, Steve finds it does. "You don't trust him."

Maria Hill stares at him for a few long moments. "I don't trust his ambitions," she says at last. "But both T'Challa and Shuri trust him with their lives, and they know him better."

"I'd still like to hear your opinion, though."

She watches him for a few long moments, studying him as though uncertain whether or not he means it. Steve meets her gaze, waiting for her verdict, hoping that she will trust him and wondering why it matters that she does.

The truth is that Steve both wants to know the things that aren't going to be said to his face in the court, and he wants to hear Maria's perspective of the situation. After all, she's lived here for nearly two years and seems fairly well-respected among the King's guards. _She is a sallowskin who does not resent subordination to one of such clear Alkebulani descent, but neither grovels nor glozes. Such traits are greatly admired in Wakanda,_ said one of the guardswomen to Sam.

Maria exhales. "This is nothing more than idle gossip," she says very softly. "But one of the Prince's companions let slip that although the Prince was delighted with his soulmate, he wasn't entirely pleased that she came of common stock and wouldn't bring anything to the relationship other than herself."

"Which should be enough."

"For most people, maybe. For a Prince of Wakanda who has a yen to be king?" One shoulder lifts and falls in an elegant shrug.

"And if Princess Shuri found her soulmate?"

Maria fixes him with a steely blue eye. "One of the requirements for a husband for the Princess was a man flexible enough to accept that a marriage of state to the Princess might not mean monogamy. I don't know if that was covered in your information pack—"

"It was."

"And?"

"I accept that marriage and succession in Wakanda is not like marriage and succession in Roanoke."

"And if your marriage in Wakanda is not like marriage and succession in Roanoke?"

He feels a spurt of annoyance at the question mingled with admiration that she's not going to let him off the hook. It seems Maria Hill is not one to take the easy way out. But he's not going to back down either, because it's really none of her business. "Then that will be a matter for me and the Princess Shuri to work out."

He just hopes that the Princess is as reasonable and practical as her brother - or Ms Hill.

She stares at him for a moment, then her mouth curves a little at the corner. "A politic answer, Captain Rogers."

"You might as well call me 'Steve'," he manages. Even that much of a smile does something to his brain, and he struggles with words. "We're going to be dealing with each other in the future. No need to stand on ceremony."

He has the feeling she's discomfited by the familiarity, but she only shrugs and they continue on.

—

For the next hour, Maria Hill takes him through the politics of the Wakandan court - not just the family tree of the royals, or the alliances of the Council, but the histories of the Council members, their opinions on everything from the Princess' marriage to Steve, to the Roanoke alliance. It's long and involved and complicated, and she clearly enjoys it. Her commentary is sharp and her observations valuable even when Steve decides he doesn't agree. If she's not a politician to her toes, then she's certainly a very competent and knowledgeable guide through the ins and outs of people, from a Roanoke perspective.

Just when he thinks he might have to call a break, a flock of geese come waddling into the garden, sashaying through the reeds as though they have right of way.

Well, maybe they do. It _is_ their home, after all.

Certainly the disgusted look that the nearest and largest goose gives him manages to suggest that Steve may be about to marry the Princess of Wakanda, but he will be a stranger here for some time yet.

Maria glances over her shoulder at the geese, smiling. "You get used to them around the place."

"Oh, I'm okay with them, just so long as they're not divebombing me." Steve gives the goose - or, probably gander - the hairy eyeball back.

He earns a spurt of laughter from Maria for that, and can't help a smile. Over the last hour, he's enjoyed poking at her rather droll sense of humour, teasing out her professional history here in Wakanda and with Ambassador Fury, and tip-toeing around the edges of her personal life.

Yes, Steve could go look up her record, find out what she's done, search out her history, but the things that would be recorded there aren't the things that he wants to know about Maria Hill. Under other circumstances - ones that didn't involve his engagement to a Princess of Wakanda - Steve would angle to learn more about her, spend time working out what makes her tick, put the effort in to break her coolly professional facade with her liquid laughter.

It's not a comfortable thought, particularly in light of Bucky's parting tease this morning before he headed off to the markets; _Don't do anything that might lead N'Jadaka to believe you're one whit less committed to your Princess wife's absolute and utter happiness!_

To distract himself, he tops up her water glass, then pours the last of the carafe into his own glass, and tries to think of something that won't get him slapped by an Ambassador's aide - or challenged by an ambitious princeling.

"Do you have a recommendation for someone who would give me a reasonably unbiased rundown from a Wakandan perspective?"

She considers this for a moment, rubbing her fingers against her palm in a gesture that seems habitual rather than deliberate. Her nails are unpolished, but neatly trimmed. "Your best bet would be N'Kechi of the J'Kuwali Plains. He's cousin to General Okoye of the Dora Milaje, but far back enough from the court that he won't bias much. I can contact him if you like, make inquiries as to his availability?"

"Yes, please."

Steve watches as she starts typing into her tablet. Her fingers dance across the screen, nimble and unvarnished, and her mouth purses slightly, then curves a little as she types the next phrase in.

So this N'Kechi of the J'Kuwali is a friend - or, at least, someone she enjoys emailing. He wonders what he'd have to do to find himself in that position - someone she'd smile to talk to. Someone she'd smile to look up at, making his chest tighten and his hands twitch on the arms of the chair, instead of arching one delicate brow in question.

He shrugs at her silent query and she goes back to typing.

Getting up, Steve meanders out from under the shading vine over the pavilion on the pretense of looking all around the meadow. It gives him the chance to stretch muscles gone stiff from The last few hours of sitting down, while also giving him some space from the unwelcome attraction to Maria Hill.Some of the geese who'd settled down in the garden bed nearest them rise to their feet, and follow behind him, honking in inquiry as though he's got food and might feed them.

"Sorry, nope," he tells them. He could swear the nearest one rolls its eyes at him before it flips its wings disdainfully and nibbles at the grass.

A glance back at the table shows Maria scribing something on her tablet, but she glances up a moment later and their eyes lock.

His gut goes into freefall and his heart into overdrive.

Of all times and places to feel the tug of attraction... Why now? Why here? Why her?

She rises from the table, and makes her way over towards him, and he watches her because there's a pleasure in watching her and because he wants to.

"N'Kechi will be in the palace tomorrow," she says as she comes within earshot. "He'll make the time to meet with you."

"Kind of him."

"He's a diplomat, served mostly in Albion but we've had plenty of exchanges over the years; he believes in the alliance of countries through diplomatic channels. And he's a good man."

The recommendation packs all the more punch because of the way it's tacked on at the end. It's not an afterthought but a deliberate marking out of this man as someone she trusts.

It's on Steve lips to ask exactly how 'diplomatically' N'Kechi of the Plains knows Maria Hill, but it's not his place and none of his business besides. He's not in a place to pursue an interest. He's engaged to be married - or so close as to make little difference. As soon as the vows are spoken to match the paperwork then the arrangement will be sealed, with a bedding and a marriage to follow.

Somehow that doesn't stop him from wanting to know more about her - what makes her tick, what she's doing here, how she feels about Wakanda and the ambitions Roanoke has in the Alkebulan continent.

Either his hormones have decided that now is the time to make a mad dash for freedom, or else he's completely lost his mind.

_We're not the type to sacrifice everything for love - and you know it. You just don't want to be realistic about it._

With the hindsight of eight years, Steve can admit that Peggy was right. Thank God one of them had the sense to see it.

Still, Steve glances sideways at Maria Hill as she pauses by him at the edge of the stream and thinks he's never regretted the need to be sensible more than at this moment.

"For the most part," Maria says, looking out across the meadow with him, "the Wakandans are positively disposed towards the Princess' marriage, and to her Roanoke husband-to-be - that is, you. So long as you show yourself willing and able to learn from your experiences here in Wakanda, to take advice and remain an ally and not merely a blow-in, they'll warm to you."

And, that simply, he's drawn back into what's going to be his future.

"I hope I can do the same with them," Steve murmurs. "Thank you for your advice."

"You're welcome."

Now Steve knows what her smile feels like - an unfolding warmth in his chest, fierce as an embered coal, sullen and lying in wait for the fuel that could burn him to ash.

God, why _now_?

Footsteps patter hurriedly across the terrace behind them.

"Maria, Captain!" They turn to face the woman standing at the edge of the garden path. "You are called to see the Council."

The woman is clad in the scarlet of King T'Challa's bodyguards, and her expression is alarmed.

"What is it, Ayo?"

Maria takes one step into the meadow towards the terrace. Then she lurches back as the geese standing around in the grass leap up and take flight, startled. Confused by the light and the spread wings of its compatriots, one of them launches right at her and she stumbles, the ground turning beneath her foot. Steve grabs for her flailing hand and catches her wrist as she twists around to catch herself. Pulling her upright, his other hand grips her elbow to keep her upright with something like a laugh for the absurdity of the moment.

The laugh gutters into shock as he sees the blue smudges of bruises under his fingertips.

Her indrawn breath is sharp as the rasp of a knife.

A moment later, Steve realises: they're not bruises.

A swirl of stars and lines and concentric circles smear across her skin, blue and white and scarlet coiling up her arms to the shoulder and down her arm to the wrist. And Steve looks down at the steel-grey outlines that billow across his knuckles, graceful geometrics of curves and lines and angles that depict the stylised eagle of the Roanoke Diplomatic Corps on his arms, wings reaching for his wrists and forearms, marking him beyond a doubt as hers.

Maria yanks herself away, stumbling back in the meadow but this time keeping on her feet. But her arms spread wide to maintain her balance, and the bright stars and circles of Steve's famous sigil are an accusatory brand on the pale of her arms, even as the air buffeted by the geese wings dies down and the geese squawk their way off the palace grounds, a fading noise in the bright midday stillness.

Her eyes lift to his, stricken horror that stabs him in the heart.

"I'm sorry," he says, because he doesn't know what else to say in this moment.

Finding his soul's mate shouldn't be like this.

"Maria?" The bodyguard has hastened across the grass towards them, only to stop some yards away. Her gaze drags down to the marks on their arms and her eyes widen. "You'd better come. Both of you."

—

Inside, the palace hums with speculation, and Steve and Maria follow Ayo's stride with more than a little trepidation.

At first, Steve half expects to be taken aside and have answers demanded of him, but the looks at him aren't offended or outraged so much as...pitying? Concerned? Anxious? Rationally, he tells himself that nobody could have known - when Ayo came out to fetch them, even they didn't know.

As to why they were brought in... Nothing that he can see explains why everything is in uproar, only that something significant has happened.

As they pass through the corridors, he manages to draw close enough to Maria that he can ask, "Is there someone else?"

She glances at him, and faint irritation flickers across her brow. " _That's_ what you're thinking of right now?"

"No," he says, keeping his voice low so they won't be overheard. "I'm thinking that if there's someone who...someone who's important like that, then this is going to be awkward for you."

"You mean _more_ awkward than being the soulmate of the husband of the King of Wakanda's sister?"

"I mean..." Steve searches for the words to explain what he's trying to say. "This doesn't have to mean anything. Not if you don't want it to."

Attraction isn't love and love isn't destiny. Steve's known both attraction and love, but he's never known destiny, and while a part of him wants nothing more than to find out who he could be with this woman who now bears his marks, a part of him shies away from the thought of someone with a right to him beyond any choice he ever made. He would have entered into the marriage contract with Shuri of Wakanda without a second thought or hesitation and lived with whatever consequences resulted.

This is different. Perhaps because it could matter a _lot_.

Maria doesn't answer, only shakes her head as they approach the Council Chambers.

A bout of shouting breaks out in the chambers, and the Dora Milaje are blocking the entry but with no door to the chamber, the strident tones of Prince N'Jadaka can be clearly heard down the corridor.

"This can be nothing other than deception - a plot from the Roanoki to ensure that Wakanda falls in with their plans! It is all of a piece - first the marriage to corrupt the succession, now this—"

"The succession is not in question, my brother," T'Challa said, coolly. "Shuri's children will be brought up as Wakandans, to rule after us as has been the tradition through all the generations of our forebears. That was our agreement with the Roanoki when Captain Rogers was to marry our sister; it does not change simply because the proposed bridegroom does."

_The proposed bridegroom...?_

"You should be grateful for the change, Prince N'Jadaka." Bucky's voice rings out - the old voice that Steve remembers from before the war, vibrant and alive beneath the almost lazy lilt. "I'm not here for trade agreements anymore; I'm here for Shuri and Shuri alone."

And on that ringing declaration, Ayo leads Steve and Maria into the Council Chambers.

The first thing Steve notices is how close the woman is standing to Bucky. The next is that it's not her standing close to Bucky, but Bucky standing close to _her_. And then he notices the black filigree across Bucky's hands and up his arm, marks that weren't there when Bucky went out to the markets this morning. They are as new, Steve suddenly realises, as the gleaming lines of silver that wind around Princess Shuri's arms, marking out segments of her arm like lapped plates of metal across her skin.

Understanding dawns. He and Maria aren't being called to account here.

Sitting beside her husband, the Lady Nakia sees them first and her gaze sweeps across them, dropping to their arms in sudden understanding. She nudges her husband, whose gaze lifts to meet Steve's and his brows rise in surprise and, perhaps, a glint of sudden amusement.

"Captain Rogers."

The Council room turns to see them at the door. The noise drops to near-silence. Steve steps forward and inclines his head in respect. "Your Majesty."

He feels the eyes on him, hears the murmur of voices rising to shock and surprise as they see the marks on his hands and wrists, as they seek and find the corresponding marks on Maria's arms.

T'Challa, however, has an expression which suggests he's rapidly recalculating the issues at hand. "Captain Rogers, we called you here to inform you that there had been a...slight change in the plans of your marriage to our sister. You originally stated that you would be willing to accomodate the situation if our sister, by some chance, discovered her soulmate..."

"Somehow, I don't think Steve's forebearance extends to sharing her with me," Bucky says on a laugh. "And that was assuming I was willing to accept the accomodation. Or that Ms. Hill would accept Steve being married off to someone else—"

Steve can feel Maria's reluctance to be outed like this in public; he doesn't like it any more than she does. What he would have done for duty's sake is very different to what he sees happening here in the crowded Council.

"Your Majesty," he says. "Can we speak less publically, please? The alliance may be a matter of the Council, but the Princess' marriage is now a matter of the soul."

"Agreed."

T'Challa catches the eye of General Okoye, whose nod at her bodyguards starts them herding courtiers and councillors alike from the room. There are protests and arguments that rise up, but more than a few seem eager to leave, most likely to spread the news that not only the Princess but the Princess' fiance have found their soulmates in Wakanda - and that they are not each other.

Then again, maybe Steve overestimates his importance; what interest would the common Wakandan have in him? No, they'd be interested in the Princess and her soulmate.

Her soulmate, who's Steve's oldest friend.

"You know, Steve," Bucky quips as he comes over, bringing the Princess along with him, their hands firmly enmeshed, "when I joked about standing in for you on your wedding day, I did not ever actually expect—"

Shuri nudges him with her elbow, rolling her eyes even as she represses a smile. Bucky wraps an arm around her waist in a display that Steve can see is as much comfort as it is affection. The bond between them, hours old, is already strong and growing stronger. Then again, Bucky has always been physically tactile by nature and especially with those whom he loves and trusts. It seems the Princess Shuri of Wakanda has become one of those.

In contrast, Maria's drawn back a little, and Steve suddenly wishes it was in him to take her hand and draw her against him. But that's not him - and probably not her, either, even if they had talked about what's happened, had any kind of agreement between them. But there'll have to be time for a talk later. Right now, he needs to speak with the woman he was on the verge of marrying - as much because they were going to be affianced as because she's his best friend's soulmate.

"Princess Shuri."

"Captain Rogers." Her smile is swift and pale as the gleam of the vibranium claws hanging on the necklace around her throat. "I have no idea of the protocols in this situation."

"An apology would seem appropriate somehow. Except...not really."

"No," she agrees. "An apology is not necessary. We have been...fortunate...to avoid the complications that a marriage between us might bring." She grimaces a little. "Only that is not quite the right word either. I do not think your language has a word for it."

"Then will you accept my wishes for your happiness in the future?" Steve offers. "I hope we'll be friends in time."

Her smile warms. "I hope so, too, Captain."

"It's Steve," he tells her. "Seeing as you're marrying Bucky."

"I have yet to persuade her," Bucky says, a wicked glint in his gaze. "But we'll get there." He grins at Maria. "So should I tender congratulations or condolences?"

A corner of Maria's mouth twitches; just the slightest hint of a laugh. But it warms the coldness in Steve's gut. The discovery of a soulmate might not be what she wanted, but he's not entirely anathema to her, at least. Either that or Bucky's charmed her socks off, as he tends to do with the ladies.

"I suppose I could accept both," she says, her voice light. "I'm sorry; it's all...very new."

"As in, when they called us to come inside to see what trouble you'd wrought, she stumbled and I caught her." Steve keeps it light, but he hopes Bucky catches his drift. They haven't had the time to come to grips with their own matching before being thrust straight into the spotlight of Wakandan politics. "We're still getting our heads around it."

Bucky looks from Steve to Maria and back to Steve with a grimace. "I've put my foot in it, haven't I?"

"Yes. But," she adds, more gently, "someone was going to broach the matter, and I should rather it was someone who had our—Steve's interests at heart."

The slip is unintentional, but Steve takes it to mean that she's thinking of them together, as a unit. That she's willing to give them a chance -

A slow smile grows on Bucky's face. "I think I'm going to like you," he says with a laugh, even as Shuri's name is called by her brother and she starts to pull him over to the king. "For what that's worth..."

"It's worth a lot to me," Steve murmurs and once again wishes he dared reach for her hand. "Look, whatever happens in this meeting...you don't have to spare me or my feelings. I know I'm not what you were expecting, and I'm pretty sure I'm not what you wanted. But I meant what I said before. If you don't want this to mean anything then...it won't."

"I never wanted a soulmate," she says after a moment. Her gaze flicks up to him and then slides away. "I never imagined having one. And I don't... I can't promise—" She breaks off as Nick Fury comes up to them. "Sir?"

"Did you have to be in the middle of the pigeons, Hill?"

"As a matter of fact, it was geese, sir."

Fury fixes her with a gimlet stare. "Geese?"

"I lost my balance when a small group swooped me, and Rogers caught me."

She holds out her arms to display what needs no explanation, and Steve suddenly wants to trace his finger along every line and every curve of his mark on her skin. He looks up, inadvertantly catches her gaze, and feels his neck go hot, like she read his thoughts. Her earlobes go pink, and she drops her arm. Fury makes a noise like a deep sigh.

"I guess I should be grateful you're not plastered all over each other like Barnes and the Princess at least."

"We wouldn't be who we are if we plastered," she says.

"Captain Rogers. Maria!" General Okoye calls them over.

Steve draws a little closer to Maria as they return to face the King and his closest councillors - including, he notes, Prince N'Jadaka, whose expression betrays fury at this new change of circumstance. He figures it's best to address the matter up front.

"Your Majesty."

"Captain Rogers."

"Believe that I came to Wakanda with the intention of marrying your sister in alliance."

"I believe it."

"I regret that I won't have a part in the alliance between our countries. I've always believed in the possibilities of our countries' co-operation together to make the world better and I still do. But I don't regret that my marriage to the Princess won't be happening - certainly not on your sister's behalf, and not on Bucky's.”

Steve takes a deep breath and judges that the King is less annoyed or angry than concerned about the situation. It allows im to be more conciliatory going forward.

“I realise this wasn't the arrangement that was planned - that Ambassador Fury and his team have been working on for the last year. But I hope you'll accept my assurance that Bucky is a good man - the best. There's no-one else I'd trust more to look after your sister, or to raise your heir and his sister to be good people of Wakanda - even if their blood is dilute."

There's a moment when Steve thinks he's gone too far with the addition at the end. Calling out the Wakandans on their bias against Roanoke blood is undiplomatic to say the least. To do it in the context of the alliance-marriage he was going to make—

But T'Challa's expression twinkles a little as he answers. "Their bloodlines would have be honoured by their paternity in either case, but we appreciate your assurances regarding Lieutenant Barnes' character, even if they are unnecessary. And we are hopeful that you will honour Wakanda with your presence here even after our sister's marriage to your friend. Even if you will not become our brother, we would be glad to have you find connection here in our country beyond your friendship with Lieutenant Barnes."

Steve doesn't look at Maria - he doesn't dare. But he's suddenly grateful that T'Challa is edging around the matter of Steve and Maria's newly-blossomed soul marks.

"I'd be glad to, your Majesty."

Unfortunately, Prince N'Jadaka is not so considerate. "And are we just to ignore this betrayal of the Captain with Ms. Hill - a member of the diplomatic embassy we have been hosting here all these months? Have we had a serpent clutched to our breast during this time?"

Maria tenses, and Steve tenses with her. But her voice is calm and cool as she addresses T'Challa.

"Your Majesty, I've been at the court for a year. You know my commitment to this alliance. I've worked with your councillors, with your generals, with your lady wife, and the Princess Shuri towards this. I..." She pauses for a moment and then doesn't seem to know how to continue.

"I believe in Ms Hill's integrity," Shuri says, her voice clear, but gentle and firm as she looks at her cousin. "Her work has been tireless in preparations for me in what was to be an arranged marriage between myself and Captain Rogers. This situation is not something that either of us - any of us - could have imagined." She lifts her hands, spreading them wide, and the marks on her palms and forearms gleam silver. "This is not betrayal but an...unexpected turn. And I am caught in it, as much as Ms Hill or Captain Rogers or James. We can be angry at the twists of fate," she points out, "or we can move with them as best we can. You would understand that, wouldn't you, cousin?"

The Prince seems to struggle with his emotions for a moment. Steve thinks of Maria's words out in the gardens earlier and finds himself wondering if the emotion is grief or something darker. Then N'Jadaka nods, brisk and a little terse. "You speak wisdom, cousin. I will admit, I am..." He says something in Wakandan, probably an excuse about how he's not himself at the news _._ That last is offered to both Shuri and the King, and they seem satisfied with the show of repentence.

Maria's expression is nearly as blank as Fury's, while Bucky seems mostly amused, although with a thread of speculation.

Prince N'Jadaka approaches Shuri, takes her face in his hands and presses his lips to her forehead, murmuring something in Wakandan. _Be blessed,_ Steve thinks and wonders just how sincere the Prince is.

Then he pauses. He doesn't speak Wakandan. But he's almost certain that was what the prince just said to his cousin—

Maria is staring at him, her eyes wide and astonished _._ And Steve suddenly knows; that's _exactly_ what the Prince said to his cousin, and Maria had the same thought that he did.

Steve doesn't quite manage to hide the smile that tilts his mouth up at the corners, although he does manage to drag his eyes from her, even as the Prince congratulates Bucky with a Roanoke handshake before giving the Wakandan salute. Bucky's return salute is not quite as crisp, but it passes muster - or, at least, the Prince's smile is only a little condescending as he leaves.

The man will bear watching, and Steve looks at Maria, thinking he'd like to know what plans she has to watch the Prince after this. What plans were in place back when the marriage was initially arranged, and whether any of those have changed.

Her gaze meshes with his again, and the thought crosses Steve's mind that their children will have the most amazing lashes—

"Ms. Hill."

They both startle, and when they turn towards the throne, it seems half the room is watching them with various expressions of amusement. Certainly Bucky is smirking as he whispers into the Princess' ear, and although General Okoye's expression has barely shifted, Steve is fairly sure that the woman is hiding a smeil.

T'Challa looks from the one to the other before his gaze rests on Maria. "You had a session prepared for Captain Rogers covering his introduction to our land, didn't you?"

"We...were in the middle of our meeting when the call came for us to attend you, your Majesty."

"Hopefully, then, there will be no such interruption when you take Lieutenant Barnes through it in the next couple of days," T'Challa says with a smile. "In the meantime, we would like to speak with you later, but in this moment your presence is not required further required in these discussions. You are dismissed from our presence." And, with a slight smile, he adds, "I think you have another meeting before you both."

She blushes, but renders the Wakandan salute with graceful fluency. Steve makes his own salute with decent facility before they both head for the corridor, Steve falling into step beside her like he's done it all his life.

Or maybe has been waiting to do it all his life?

"Are you usually such a romantic?" She slants a glance up at him with something that might be irritation or might be bewilderment.

"Not usually," he admits. "But then I've never had a soulmate before..."

The garden seems as they left it, although several of Maria's papers are scattered across the grass or caught in the shrubs. As Steve gathers them up, Maria shuffles them all back into the folder with a sigh. "I guess I'll have to redo the entire thing for your friend," she murmurs. "I'll be he didn't do the reading."

"Nope." Steve hands her the last papers he gathered, thinking she'll take them from his hand and then they'll sit down and talk.

Instead, she reaches for his wrist, tracing the sharp outlines of her mark on his skin with her fingertips. And Steve forgets to breathe as her hands map the marks up his arms to his elbows, an exploratory caress that he wants nothing more than to return.

It's a kind of torture to be explored with this level of intensity. Her thumb sweeps up his forearm, almost to the elbow on one side, while her fingers drag lightly down the other. The dappled light through the overhead vines sheens reddish-gold highlights across the sweep of her hair, and Steve wants to dig his hands into it, tilt her head back to his and taste her. Just one taste, soft and sweet as a summer morning...

 _No._ He holds himself still, like a man who's attracted a wild creature and doesn't want to startle it - or like a man who's fighting his instincts to touch, to take, to have. Maria Hill doesn't strike him as the sort of woman to leap into anything, and most particularly not anything that might mean something.

Yet Steve can't quite keep from wondering what she'd do if he took her hand and led her to his rooms, peeled her out of that scarlet dress, and set his mouth and hands and body to pleasing her until she was wrecked—

Abruptly, she drops her hands. Heat slides across her cheeks and throat and nape. "I thought—" She clears her throat at little but meets his gaze in spite of the flush across her skin. "They said you were _reserved_. Good with people you trusted and were close to, and friendly but polite with everyone else."

"You're not everyone else." Steve proffers her the papers and watches as she takes them and packs them away, closing up the folder with a snap. "And neither am I to you, I guess. Because I think I'd have heard about your tendency to run your hands up people's arms."

Colour washed up her cheeks, but ebbed away after a few seconds. She took a breath, and Steve thought she was maybe about to apologise, but then she let it out.

"We don't know each other."

"No. But we feel something." He reached out and took her hand. "We're not like Bucky and the Princess Shuri, though - to have this happen and...and leap into it. That's not who we are. We're going to think about this, take it slowly."

"Looks like you've decided how it's all going to happen."

The pique in her tone makes him feel just a little ornery. "Unless you'd like to move faster?"

She looks at him for a few moments, as though measuring the challenge he's laid out before her. Then she steps up, her eyes on his, her chin lifted. Her hands skim up the sides of his shirt, palms flattening across his shoulders as though she's measuring the breadth of him. When her hand cups the back of Steve's head and draws his mouth down to hers, he goes willingly.

It's just a taste at first - a delicate brush of lips that's sharp and tart and _satisfying_. Then it deepens as Steve leans in and Maria does, too. His hands have migrated to cup her face, and hers have dropped to his shoulders, fingers curling against his collarbone. And he has her firmly up against the table, crowding her body with his own even as she presses back, unafraid of meeting him where he's at, countering him with a ferocity that belies her own polite, reserved exterior.

Matching him.

Steve forgets that he wants to take it slow; that he wants to give her time to think about this. He forgets that he wanted to come to an acceptance of what they are to each other now and to work out what they could be to each other in the future. The universe has narrowed down to the woman in his arms, and nothing else but her exists.

It might be minutes later, or days, but finally Maria draws back. Her gaze is as blurred as Steve feels, and the slick gleam of her mouth makes him want to bend his head and nip her lips between his own.

"No," she murmurs, turning her head aside a little. "We were going to take it slowly."

He exhales and lets his hands drop to the coloured swirls on her skin, marking her as his for all the world to see. "We were—We can—We will." He takes a deep breath and smiles a little sheepishly. "We're strangers, really. Acquaintances at best. I'd...I'd like to know if we can be friends before we take this anywhere."

"And if we can't?"

Steve already knows the answer to that. He knew it the moment he understood what she was to him. "Then I'll still belong to you."

She stills in his arms, a split-second of shock. Her lashes fly up and her gaze fixes on his, eyes wide, like he's surprised her and she doesn't know where to go from here.

"I'm not—I don't know how to do this." Then she takes a breath and lets it out. "But...I'm willing to learn how. With you."

Steve folds her hand under his, and this time his smile is answered with the slow and slight curve of her own. "We'll learn together."


End file.
